Proud
by JamesLuver
Summary: After Bates' arrest, Anna spills all to Mrs. Hughes with her head held high.


**A/N:** I know there are a fair few of these fanfics around, but I really wanted to put my own out there after the idea wouldn't leave me. I haven't read any of the others so I have no idea how similar/different it is to the others, but still...I love the dynamics which emerged between Anna and Mrs. Hughes' in the Christmas Special, and I hope they continue into series three. Anna needs all the support she can get!

**Disclaimer:** I'm still a kid who works in a supermarket for a bit of spendo. So, no, I don't own_ Downton Abbey_.

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_Proud_

She stands there alone, bottom lip trembling, counting the slow, lurching steps her husband – her _husband_ – is taking away from her. No, he isn't taking the steps away from her; they are being _dragged_ from his feet as the two policemen sent to arrest him harshly yank him out of her life. She continues to stare straight ahead, eyes fixed on the final spot where she had been able to see him, the spot that is now void of her husband's large, comforting frame. She can feel the eyes of the house on her as the members of staff slowly turn to face her again, cataloguing, scrutinising, judging. Her skin is almost on fire from those glances, but she refuses to meet any of them.

The silence is almost unbearable, crushing her beneath its weight.

And then the noise erupts. Harsh whispers pass between Thomas and O'Brien, Daisy's quavering, scared questions fill the air, Mr. Carson's deep rumbling overrides it all. The sounds merge into one, closing in, threatening to burst her eardrums, and for a moment she thinks that her quaking limbs will collapse.

And then there is a strong, reassuring grasp on her elbow and a gentle, commanding lilt telling her to come away from this place. Numbly, Anna follows Mrs. Hughes, kept upright by the housekeeper's arm around her waist. The servants on each side of the corridor continue to gape. The din reaches a new crescendo as questions and demands begin to filter through the whispers and she begins to crack under their weight.

"The sod did her in, did he?"

"Never would've expected it of him."

"Poor Anna's welcome to him…"

Mrs. Hughes squeezes her comfortingly, pushing passed the last person to turn towards her sitting room. After a few more shaking paces, they are through the door. Mrs. Hughes gently guides the younger woman in to one of the chairs before moving back towards the door. Anna can hear Mr. Carson again, but his words are muffled. Mrs. Hughes answers him, then returns. Anna looks pale and drawn, a stark contrast to how happy she'd looked just a couple of hours before, even with Miss Swire's passing hanging heavily over all of the house. There is a light sheen of sweat on her face, her eyes are too large in her head and she is whiter than any of the linen sheets the Crawleys use on their beds.

"My dear girl," she says, coming to sit in the chair next to her. "My dear, dear girl."

Anna allows her to take her trembling fingers in hers, the feel of the older housekeeper's fingers stroking the back of her hand comforting her despite everything. She doesn't speak. She doesn't trust herself to.

"Mr. Carson has gone up to notify his lordship," Mrs. Hughes is saying. "I'm not sure if the police will have informed him already, or if they're doing it now, but I know he'll want to see you to ensure that you're bearing up. It's been a horrible shock for everyone."

Anna's head droops. A horrible shock. In theory, it shouldn't have been. Hadn't she been worrying herself ragged by imagining this moment becoming a reality? Hadn't that been the main reason to spur her on in her bid to make him marry her? Hadn't she been looking up whenever the door opened, a sickening lurch in her stomach, sure that Mr. Bates was going to be torn out of her life? How ironic that on the day she has not even given it a thought it should happen, creeping up on their unsuspecting figures and leaving their ravaged remains in its wake.

She should have continued to expect it. Perhaps then it would not have happened.

She knows why she'd forgotten. In the complete joy of becoming Anna _Bates_, she had forgotten about the veil of shadow that they had married under. She should have known that it would not last; every time she has allowed herself to be happy in the past, she's had her dreams crushed around her; first by the arrival of Vera (she refuses to think of her as her husband's first wife) and then by her death months before when Anna had thought that the worst was finally behind them. It is fitting that the happiest moment of her life so far should now be tainted by the most devastating aftermath that she could ever have envisaged.

Mrs. Hughes is staring at her, she notes dimly. The housekeeper's hand is still in hers, gently smoothing the tension out of her fist.

"Take some time, my girl," she says gently. "I'm sure it's all going to turn out to be a huge misunderstanding. I'm not sure how much his lordship will be able to do, but I'm sure that he'll make every effort to get all the information he can for you–"

"That won't be necessary." The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Hughes' tone is both shocked and shrewd; the gaze she fixes on her face is calculating and searching. Anna can't maintain it, dropping her eyes, cursing herself for allowing the revelation to be announced in such a way.

"Anna?" Mrs. Hughes' voice is soft and encouraging. She knows, Anna realises. Mrs. Hughes is not stupid; barely anything gets passed her. It's part of the reason why no inter-house romances have ever taken place.

Except for theirs, of course. Mrs. Hughes has always respected theirs.

The secret is out. Slowly, Anna extricates her hands and raises them to the neck of her dress. Her fingers graze the skin of her neck as she searches for the fine chain that she knows is hanging there, trying not to remember the way that her husband's firm touch had felt as he'd fastened the clasp securely. Finally her fingers grasp their prize, and she withdraws it as though it is as fragile as glass. Unfastening it, she slides her wedding ring from the chain and lets it rest in the palm of her hand. Mrs. Hughes gasps, clamping a hand to her mouth. Anna waits for her to recover.

She'd known that she'd be unable to wear the wedding ring until they came clean to the rest of the house. It hadn't matter. Wearing his name was enough, she'd reassured him; she was content to wear the ring hidden around her neck, the cool metal cradled gently between her breasts.

Now the ring glints proudly in the light, and when she's sure that Mrs. Hughes has had her chance to study it, she slips it onto her wedding finger. There is no point in hiding the truth any longer.

It seems as if the spell is broken when the ring rests snugly at the bottom of her finger. Mrs. Hughes shakes her head as though to clear it and then looks back up into Anna's face. The younger woman shuffles a little uncomfortably under the level stare.

"I thought you'd been speaking metaphorically earlier. When did it happen?" the housekeeper asks quietly.

Anna's voice is equally low. "Just Friday. Friday afternoon."

_Friday afternoon._ She can almost see the cogs turning in Mrs. Hughes' head, trying to place the when and the where and how she'd managed to miss the signs. But of course, how could she have suspected? Mr. Bates' half-day was always Friday afternoon so he wasn't scrutinised, and no one had paid any attention to Anna – willing-to-please, dependable Anna – when she'd announced that she needed to run some errands for Lady Mary in Ripon that afternoon.

"Why on earth didn't you tell me?" They seem to be the only words that Mrs. Hughes can formulate. Anna thinks she can detect a trace of hurt in the woman's brusque tone.

She shifts uneasily, but she is glad of the distraction. If she is given too much time to think about Mr. Bates, then she is sure she will break down. Or go mad. "I couldn't. I didn't want anyone to have any extra worry what with her ladyship's condition and then with Miss Swire passing away…"

"So you lied to get away from the house?" Mrs. Hughes' tone is disapproving, harsher than she'd intended.

Anna bites her lip, then shakes her head. "No. Lady Mary was the one who sorted out the errands so that I could be away."

This stops Mrs. Hughes short. "You mean to say that you told Lady Mary that you were going to get married?"

"I didn't want to," Anna says earnestly. "But I knew she could help."

"You should know that you can always confide in me, Anna."

Anna's eyes are watery but clear as she holds her gaze. She says nothing.

Realisation dawns on the housekeeper. "You thought I'd try and stop you."

Now Anna drops her gaze. She rubs her thumb over the gold wedding band. "I thought you'd try to convince me that I was making a hasty decision."

"But you did," Mrs. Hughes states gently, knowing that there is no point in trying to impose her opinion forcefully – Anna is stubborn and headstrong as well as conscientious and hard working.

Predictably, Anna's eyes flash and she shakes her head. "I didn't, Mrs. Hughes. Believe me. I've had too long to make the decision. And I know that it was the right one."

Now that they know how things have played out, Mrs. Hughes knows that Anna is right. Anna will have rights and entitlements as his wife. She will have to be made aware of proceedings now. Despite her shock, the housekeeper feels a stab of pride. Anna has proved herself to be completely astute once again.

"But what about the wedding?" she asks, turning her attention back to the topic at hand.

Anna shrugs, voice quavering. "We had it in the Ripon registrar office. There are people there who are willing to act as witnesses."

"Oh, Anna," Mrs. Hughes' voice wavers too. "You mean to say that the whole ceremony was secret? Your parents, do they even know?"

For the first time since entering the sitting room, something other than exquisite sorrow passes over Anna's face. Panic. "No, they don't. I never had time to tell them. It all came around so fast that we just didn't have time."

"The whole timing of this is wrong."

"I regret nothing. Marrying Mr. Bates was the proudest moment of my life."

Mrs. Hughes doesn't doubt that it is. If there is one thing she knows about Anna, it's that she loves the valet very much.

"Even so, you should never have had to have married him secretly."

"It was the right thing to do."

There were many more right ways to go about the process, but Mrs. Hughes keeps that to herself. The last thing Anna needs right now is her chastising.

"We planned to tell everyone about us tomorrow." Anna's voice is small. Her gaze has dropped to her wedding ring again. "We thought it would be best if we waited until the stress of the funeral had died down."

Now Anna faces the prospect of telling everyone about her secret wedding alone. Something that had brought her joy over the last two days now fills her with dread. What will the others say now?

Mrs. Hughes notices her discomfort. Unfortunately, the next subject that she brings up does nothing to dispel Anna's worries. In fact, it makes them worse. But she has to be practical about this. Weddings mean wedding nights, and wedding nights can have unexpected consequences, especially for a housemaid who isn't thinking straight…

"And did you manage to…_be_ together that night?"

Anna flushes at her words, twisting her hands together in her lap. Her voice is barely above a whisper as she speaks, and hurried, as though saying it quickly will take away the impact of the words. "Yes. Lady Mary arranged for us to have a room for the night."

Mrs. Hughes' eyebrows rise in disbelief that Lady Mary could be so thoughtful. She feels her own cheeks hotting up at the prospect of one of the young women that she sees as a daughter losing her innocence under this very roof. She pushes those thoughts away in favour of her earlier brisk manner as the confirmation of the act quickly leads to the potential consequences.

"There's a chance that you might be with child, then."

The forthright way of putting it makes Anna's eyes widen, and her hands leap to her stomach as though she is cradling a life that is half-formed there. Like Mrs. Hughes had suspected, it is obvious that the thought hasn't even crossed her mind. And why would it have? With the turmoil of the last half an hour, Anna can hardly be blamed for not thinking of anything beyond the arrest of her husband.

_Husband_. The concept seems strange to Mrs. Hughes' mind.

"Let's not worry about that yet," she tells the housemaid. "We'll face whatever comes when – and if – we need to. For now, let's focus on Mr. Bates."

Anna nods. She is weary. "When will I be allowed to visit him? They'll let me soon, won't they?"

The strength she possesses is amazing. Even now, when she has every right to collapse, she is still fighting on.

"I should imagine so," Mrs. Hughes tries to reassure her. "We'll wait and see what Mr. Carson has to report."

Anna nods again, then sinks back into silence. Her head is filled with images of Mr. Bates. Reaching for her hand under the dinner table. Offering his arm for her to grasp on the way to the village. Speaking quietly with her, his voice rumbling in his chest. The thump of his heartbeat, strong against her ear. The taste of his mouth. The feel of his warm skin, heavy and sated. She closes her eyes, offers up a silent prayer. _Please, Lord, let him be alright._

It seems like hours before Mrs. Hughes speaks again, though in reality it can't be more than a couple of minutes. "Anna, you need to tell your parents everything. They have a right to know. I'll fix it so that you can have some time off this weekend. Go and see them. Explain the situation. They'll understand. They'll have to. And if there's anything you need, you know I'm here to talk. If you just need to have a good cry, or to vent your frustrations...I'll gladly be here for you."

Anna nods. Her smile is tremulous. "Thank you, Mrs. Hughes. Truly."

And then the tears begin to fall, a river that has been suppressed for far too long. Mrs. Hughes had been half-expecting it and moves to squeeze herself into the seat next to the poor girl. Anna sags desperately against her shoulder, her tears soaking the collar of the housekeeper's dress, her sobs wrenching her body, finally overcome by her terror and grief. And, despite it all, Mrs. Hughes cannot be prouder. Anna Smith – _Bates_ – is a remarkable young woman.

She makes a silent vow to herself then and there: she will do whatever it takes to be there for Anna, no matter what comes.

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**A/N:** ...Which leads on nicely to the Christmas Special!

If you can, please review. :)


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